Past
by Raven of the Shadows
Summary: Six years after the war, Harry decides to visit the only family of his, taking Neville with him for support. What happens when he finds Petunia drowning in the black-hole of depression? [Warning: Mentions of self-harm and suicide]


_Written for WolfWinks. Hope you like it, Grace :)_

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 **Past**

Harry yanked the sheet covering the man sleeping on the bed in front of him and was rewarded with a yelp. Neville opened an eye and blearily looked at Harry. "Oh, 'course t'is you, Potter. Should never have given you the password."

Harry found himself grinning. "Oh, admit it, you love me. By the way, glad to know you didn't sleep naked today. Well, at least not completely." He pointed at the only piece of clothing that Neville had on.

Groaning, Neville sat up and stretched. "And you worry about that _after_ you pull my sheet away?" When Harry rubbed his neck and didn't reply, he continued "I get it, mate, you can't think that far."

Harry shrugged. He still couldn't believe this was the same guy who used to be scared of Severus Snape's shadow. In the Carrow year, Neville's confidence had improved leaps and bounds and had been growing ever since. Being the Hogwarts Herbology professor and Head of the Gryffindor House had definitely helped, too.

"Get ready," Harry said. "We're going somewhere today."

Neville raised an eyebrow as he stood up, thus towering Harry. "Is that a date, Potter?" The taller man suddenly leaned down, and Harry flushed.

"Shut it, Nev." Neville chuckled, and Harry glared at him.

"All right, I'm going to get ready. See you in the Great Hall, yeah?"

It was twenty minutes later that Neville joined Harry at the empty Gryffindor table—old habits die hard—for breakfast. The school was closed but Neville prefered to spend the holidays in his quarters. Something about plants don't stop growing in summers, which Harry didn't understand, but he didn't argue, either. The duo had grown really close after the war, especially when Hermione and Ron had left for Australia in search for elder Grangers, and Harry liked to have an excuse to return to the first place that had ever felt like home to him.

"So," Neville began, forking a piece of bacon, "where are we going?"

Harry looked at his plate, hesitating. Then: "I haven't gone to see the Dursleys yet. It's been six years, and I know there's no love between us, but… well, they're the only family I have. Alive, that is. At least they were, after the war—Kingsley told me that." Neville was quiet; Harry didn't dare look up, so he continued, "I think I want to go see them at least once. But—I don't think I can go alone, so…" Harry raised his gaze to meet Neville's eyes. "Can—can you come with me?"

Neville placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You join me to see Mum and Dad all the time, and trust me, I think your presence is the only thing that helps me not just losing it. Of course I'll accompany you, Harry."

Harry nodded, then smiled. He was grateful to have a friend in Neville. They were more alike than anyone else—losing their parents to the prophecy; being the target for humiliation in childhood; leading the DA against all odds—and the other boy understood him in a way even Ron and Hermione never had. "Thanks, Nev."

Neville punched him in the arm. "No problem." And just like that, the seriousness was gone and they fell into their usual friendly banter.

They apparated to behind a broken truck that had stood on the outskirts of Little Whining as long as Harry could remember. Though, he hadn't been sure if it would still be there, and he let out a breath when he was sure no one had seen them.

"Transfigure your robes," he told Neville in a hushed voice.

"Into what?"

"Muggle clothes, of course."

Neville folded his arms. "And what do Muggle clothes exactly look like?"

Harry facepalmed. "Of course. You're a pureblood." He proceeded to transfigure both their robes into appropriate casual wear. "Now come on. And if people stare at us, don't do anything."

Neville stopped mid-step. "What?"

"We're still a bit away, but the people at Privet Drive may recognise me as a deranged criminal."

"What?" Neville repeated.

"Long story," said Harry. "And trust me, you don't want to know." They walked silently. When they reached the Privet Drive, the whispering and pointing began. Harry unconsciously started rubbed his hands together. God only knew how anxious he was to be back in this place.

"Seriously, Harry, what kind of date are you taking me on?" Harry looked at Neville, his expression incredulous, but the taller boy continued, his voice louder than normal. "Did I shave my legs for this—this _crazy_ outing?"

The people were now openly gawking at the pair, but Harry couldn't help but laugh. He realised Neville was trying to take his mind off things, and Harry couldn't be any more thankful for that. "This," Harry said, his eyes full of mirth, "my love, is a date you will never forget!"

"Oh?" Neville asked, just as they turned the last corner.

Harry nodded. "Well, this should be fun," he muttered, squaring his shoulders and pushed the doorbell. It was then that he noticed the garden wasn't as immaculate as it used to be. For some reason, this tiny observation made him feel hopeful—that maybe, just maybe, this visit won't end up in a disaster.

It was Petunia who opened the door. She had a few more wrinkles, and her eyes didn't hold the contempt they used to in the past when looking at Harry. He greeted her; she just said, "Oh, it's you?" and craned her neck around—out of habit or because she still cared, Harry didn't know.

"Uh, can we come in, Aunt Petunia?" She turned to take in his companion. "This is Neville, a friend of mine."

"And I assume he's the same sort as you are." It wasn't a question. "I suppose you should come in."

It was in a tense silence that the two wizards followed the woman to the living room. There was no one in there. "Where're the others?" Harry asked, once seated. "The family, I mean."

"What family?" A mirthless smile flickered on Petunia's face. "Vernon's gone—died of a heart attack a year ago. Dudley moved out as soon as we returned here. Doesn't want anything to do with us—with me—apparently.

"I guess I have to thank you for that," she said, looking into Harry's face.

"What?"

"He changed. Whatever you did to him that night when you brought him home—"

"I saved him from dementors." Harry interrupted, his temper rising. Neville grabbed his hand, and Harry gave the other man a thankful nod.

"Yes, but he started changing that day. He was a different person the night we left this house." Petunia paused, as if deliberating whether to continue or not. "And I think—I think the change was a good thing. He's now a boxing trainer at Stonewall High. He also helps at an orphanage his wife works in."

To say Harry was surprised would be an understatement. Petunia continued. "I was not a good mother to him. We were not good parents. Even though you lost me my son with that little act, I thank you for making him the man he is today." A heavy silence descended upon them as Harry processed all this.

"Do you want some tea?" Petunia suddenly asked. Harry could only nod.

The two young men sat in silence until the woman returned. "Here," she said as she started to pour tea into a cup, but Harry's attention was drawn to something else. He jerked out of his seat and grabbed her wrist, not caring in the least as the teapot clattered to the tray. He tugged the sleeve of her blouse up, then looked into her eyes.

"What is this?" His voice was low but laced with anger, which made Neville stand up and ask what the matter was. In answer, Harry pointed to the various scars and scabs that covered Petunia's wrist.

Petunia, who had been frozen in shock, jerked her hand back. "It helps me remember I'm not dead yet."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, "you bleed just to know you're alive? Well, we're going to a hospital right now."

The woman took a step back and glared at him. "Get out of my house. Get out and don't come back!" Harry didn't comply, just stood there, looking at her with an even gaze. A minute later, Petunia dropped in her seat and put her hand in her hands and sobbed into them.

Harry sighed. This woman, despite whatever she had done in past, was still family. He walked around the table and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It is okay, Aunt Petunia," he told her in a quiet voice.

She looked up, tears dripping down her eyes. "W-why are you being nice to me when I—" she faltered.

Harry gave her a sad smile and looked down at his hands. "Because I understand. You were a child then, and you felt as if your sister had been snatched away by our world—a world you were not welcome in." He looked into her eyes, first time noticing the emerald flecks in her otherwise brown eyes. "You know, you and Severus are quite alike in that matter. You both embraced discrimination instead of opposing it, and my mother was just a part of what you stood against." He sighed. "And—and you both lost her.

"I forgave you a long time ago. And I know my mother never would hold it against you if you ever meet her. But you need to understand, forgiveness comes from within. What matters is that you forgive yourself. For what you did, or didn't do, for Dudley… and—and me, I guess."

Petunia looked at him, as if taking him in for the first time. "When did you get so smart?"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "The war does that to you."

Neville, who had been quiet till then, spoke: "Mrs Dursley, he will not tell you this, Harry tried killing himself, too, after the war. Several times." The other two snapped their heads in his direction, but Neville ignored Harry's glare and looked straight at Petunia as he continued. "Thought killing Voldemort made him evil. That the people who died did because of him. Well, he did make peace with his choices and actions later on. Maybe it is time you did that, too."

Petunia nodded but didn't say anything.

"Neville helped me with that. A lot. You need help, too, Aunt Petunia. I understand if you'll not be comfortable with me, but see a doctor, or talk to a friend. Seeking help will be the first step towards getting over the past." Petunia was still quiet. "Uh… do you mind if I clear this mess?" Harry asked, pointing to the tea spilled on the table and on the carpet. Petunia stiffened, then nodded. Once he cleared the table, Harry pocketed the wand. "Well, we should get going."

Just as the two men were crossing the threshold, Harry heard his aunt call out from inside. He looked over his shoulder, and she spoke in an uncertain voice, "Maybe you could visit sometime again?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "I will."

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 **Word Count:** 1853

 **Prompts used:**

From Gift Giving Gala (Hogwarts)

• (pairing) Harry/Neville  
• (setting) 4 Privet Drive  
• (dialogue) "Get out and don't come back!"

From Hogwarts Assignments

• Gardening #3 — Write about someone making peace with something/someone.  
• Character: Petunia Evans  
• Word: forgiveness  
• Feeling: hopeful

From Writing Club (Hogwarts)

• Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive  
• Get Over It Day - Write about someone getting over something.  
• Did I Shave My Legs For This?


End file.
